In which our hero follows his destiny and forms a tableau.
Our hero and his comrade climbed the precipice, and, after some
minutes' severe toil, arrived at the summit, when they sat down to
recover themselves. The sky was clear, although the gale blew strong.
They had an extensive view of the coast, lashed by the angry waves.
"It's my opinion, Ned," said Jack, as he surveyed the expanse of
troubled water, "that we're just as well out of that."
"I agree with you, Jack; but it's also my opinion that we should be
just as well out of this, for the wind blows through one. Suppose we
go a little further inland, where we may find some shelter till the
morning."
"It's rather dark to find anything," rejoined our hero; "but however,
a westerly gale on the top of a mountain with wet clothes in the
middle of the night, with nothing to eat or drink, is not the most
comfortable position in the world, and we may change for the better."
They proceeded over a flat of a hundred yards, and then descended--the
change in the atmosphere was immediate. As they continued their march
inland, they came to a high road, which appeared to run along the
shore, and they turned into it; for, as Jack said very truly, a road
must lead to something. After a quarter of an hour's walk, they again
heard the rolling of the surf, and perceived the white walls of
houses.
"Here we are at last," said Jack. "I wonder if any one will turn out
to take us in, or shall we stow away for the night in one of those
vessels hauled up on the beach?"
"Recollect this time, Easy," said Gascoigne, "not to show your money;
that is, show only a dollar, and say you have no more; or promise to
pay when we arrive at Palermo; and if they will neither trust us, nor
give to us, we must make it out as we can."
"How the cursed dogs bark! I think we shall do very well this time,
Gascoigne; we do not look as if we were worth robbing, at all events,
and we have the pistols to defend ourselves with if we are attacked.
Depend upon it I will show no more gold. And now let us make our
arrangements. Take you one pistol and take half the gold--I have it
all in my right-hand pocket--my dollars and pistarenes in my left. You
shall take half of them too. We have silver enough to go on with till
we are in a safe place."
Jack then divided the money in the dark, and also gave Gascoigne a
pistol. "Now, then, shall we knock for admittance? Let's first walk
through the village, and see if there's anything like an inn. Those
yelping curs will soon be at our heels; they come nearer and nearer
every time. There's a cart, and it's full of straw--suppose we go to
bed till to-morrow morning--we shall be warm, at all events."
"Yes," replied Gascoigne, "and sleep much better than in any of the
cottages. I have been in Sicily before, and you have no idea how the
fleas bite."
Our two midshipmen climbed up into the cart, nestled themselves into
the straw, or rather Indian corn leaves, and were soon fast asleep. As
they had not slept for two nights, it is not to be wondered at that
they slept soundly so soundly, indeed, that about two hours after they
had got into their comfortable bed, the peasant, who had brought to
the village some casks of wine to be shipped and taken down the coast
in a felucca, yoked his bullocks, and not being aware of his freight,
drove off, without in any way disturbing their repose, although the
roads in Sicily are not yet macadamised.
The jolting of the roads rather increased than disturbed the sleep of
our adventurers; and, although there were some rude shocks, it only
had the effect of making them fancy in their dreams that they were
again in the boat, and that she was still dashing against the rocks.
In about two hours, the cart arrived at its destination--the peasant
unyoked his bullocks and led them away. The same cause will often
produce contrary effects: the stopping of the motion of the cart
disturbed the rest of our two midshipmen; they turned round in the
straw, yawned, spread out their arms, and then awoke. Gascoigne, who
felt considerable pain in his shoulder, was the first to recall his
scattered senses.
"Easy," cried he, as he sat up and shook off the corn leaves.
"Port it is," said Jack, half dreaming.
"Come, Easy, you are not on board now. Rouse and bit." Jack then sat
up and looked at Gascoigne. The forage in the cart was so high round
them that they could not see above it; they rubbed their eyes, yawned,
and looked at each other.
"Have you any faith in dreams?" said Jack to Gascoigne, "because I had
a very queer one last night."
"Well, so had I," replied Gascoigne. "I dreamt that the cart rolled
by itself into the sea, and went away with us right in the wind's eye
back to Malta; and considering that it never was built for such
service, she behaved uncommonly well. Now, what was your dream?"
"Mine was, that we woke up and found ourselves in the very town from
which the speronare had sailed, and that they had found the fore part
of the speronare among the rocks, had recognised her, and picked up
one of our pistols. That they had laid hold of us, and had insisted
that we had been thrown on shore in the boat, and asked us what had
become of the crew--they were just seizing us, when I awoke."
"Your dream is more likely to come true than mine, Easy; but still I
think we need not fear that. At the same time, we had better not
remain here any longer; and it occurs to me, that if we tore our
clothes more, it would be advisable--we shall, in the first place,
look more wretched; and, in the next place, can replace them with the
dress of the country, and so travel without exciting suspicion. You
know that I can speak Italian pretty well."
"I have no objection to tear my clothes if you wish," replied Jack;
"at the same time give me your pistol; I will draw the charges and
load them again. They must be wet."
Having reloaded the pistols and rent their garments, the two
midshipmen stood up in the cart and looked about them.
"Halloo!--why how's this, Gascoigne? last night we were close to the
beach, and among houses, and now--where the devil are we? You dreamt
nearer the mark than I did, for the cart has certainly taken a
cruise."
"We must have slept like midshipmen, then," replied Gascoigne: "surely
it cannot have gone far."
"Here we are, surrounded by hills on every side, for at least a couple
of miles. Surely some good genius has transported us into the
interior, that we might escape from the relatives of the crew whom I
dreamt about," said Jack, looking at Gascoigne.
As it afterwards was known to them, the speronare had sailed from the
very seaport in which they had arrived that night, and where they had
got into the cart. The wreck of the speronare had been found, and had
been recognised, and it was considered by the inhabitants that the
padrone and his crew had perished in the gale. Had they found our two
midshipmen and questioned them, it is not improbable that suspicion
might have been excited, and the results have been such as our hero
had conjured up in his dream. But, as we said before, there is a
peculiar providence for midshipmen.
On a minute survey, they found that they were in an open space which,
apparently, had been used for thrashing and winnowing maize, and that
the cart was standing under a clump of trees in the shade.
"There ought to be a house hereabouts," said Gascoigne, "I should
think that behind the trees we shall find one. Come, Jack, you are as
hungry as I am, I'll answer for it: we must look out for a breakfast
somewhere."
"If they won't give us something to eat, or sell it," replied Jack,
who was ravenous, clutching his pistol, "I shall take it--I consider
it no robbery. The fruits of the earth were made for us all, and it
never was intended that one man should have a superfluity and another
starve. The laws of equality--"
"May appear very good arguments to a starving man, I grant, but still
won't prevent his fellow-creatures from hanging him," replied
Gascoigne. "None of your confounded nonsense, Jack; no man starves
with money in his pocket, and as long as you have that, leave those
that have none to talk about equality and the rights of man."
"I should like to argue that point with you, Gascoigne." "Tell me, do
you prefer sitting down here to argue, or to look out for some
breakfast, Jack?"
"Oh, the argument may be put off, but hunger cannot."
"That's very good philosophy, Jack, so let's go on." They went through
the copse of wood, which was very thick, and soon discovered the wall
of a large house on the other side.
"All right," said Jack; "but still let us reconnoitre. It's not a
farmhouse; it must belong to a person of some consequence--all the
better--they will see that we are gentlemen, notwithstanding our
tattered dress. I suppose we are to stick to the story of the sea-mews
at Gozo?"
"Yes," replied Gascoigne; "I can think of nothing better. But the
English are well received in this island; we have troops at Palermo."
"Have we? I wish I was sitting down at the mess-table--but what's
that? a woman screaming? Yes, by heavens!--come along, Ned." And away
dashed Jack towards the house followed by Gascoigne. As they advanced
the screams redoubled; they entered the porch, burst into the room
from whence they proceeded, and found an elderly gentleman defending
himself against two young men, who were held back by an elderly and a
young lady. Our hero and his comrade had both drawn their pistols,
and just as they burst open the door, the old gentleman who defended
himself against such odds had fallen down. The two others burst from
the women, and were about to pierce him with their swords, when Jack
seized one by the collar of his coat and held him fast, pointing the
muzzle of the pistol to his ear: Gascoigne did the same to the other.
It was a very dramatic tableau. The two women flew to the elderly
gentleman and raised him up; the two assailants being held just as
dogs hold pigs by the ear, trembling with fright, with the points of
their rapiers dropped, looked at the midshipmen and the muzzles of
their pistols with equal dismay; at the same time, the astonishment of
the elderly gentleman and the women, at such an unexpected
deliverance, was equally great. There was a silence for a few
seconds.
"Ned," at last said Jack, "tell these chaps to drop their swords, or
we fire." Gascoigne gave the order in Italian, and it was complied
with. The midshipmen then possessed themselves of the rapiers, and
gave the young men their liberty.
The elderly gentleman at last broke the silence. "It would appear,
signors, that there was a special interference of Providence, to
prevent you from committing a foul and unjust murder. Who these are
who have so opportunely come to my rescue, I know not, but thanking
them as I do now, I think that you will yourselves, when you are calm,
also thank them for having prevented you from committing an act which
would have loaded you with remorse, and embittered your future
existence. Gentleman, you are free to depart: you, Don Silvio, have
indeed disappointed me; your gratitude should have rendered you
incapable of such conduct: as for you, Don Scipio, you have been
misled; but you both have, in one point, disgraced yourselves. Ten
days back my sons were both here,--why did you not come then? If you
sought revenge on me, you could not have inflicted it deeper than
through my children, and at least you would not have acted the part of
assassins in attacking, an old man. Take your swords, gentlemen, and
use them better henceforth. Against future attacks I shall be well
prepared."
Gascoigne, who perfectly understood what was said, presented the sword
to the young gentleman from whom he had taken it--our hero did the
same. The two young men returned them to their sheaths, and quitted
the room without saying a word.
"Whoever you are, I owe to you and thank you for my life," said the
elderly gentleman, scanning the outward appearance of our two
midshipmen.
"We are," replied Gascoigne, "officers in the English navy, and
gentlemen; we were wrecked in our boat last night, and have wandered
here in the dark, seeking for assistance, and food, and some
conveyance to Palermo, where we shall find friends, and the means of
appearing like gentlemen."
"Was your ship wrecked, gentlemen?" inquired the Sicilian, "and many
lives lost?"
"No, our ship is at Malta; we were in a boat on a party of pleasure,
were caught by a gale, and driven on the coast. To satisfy you of the
truth, observe that our pistols have the king's mark, and that we are
not paupers we show you gold." Gascoigne pulled out his doubloons--and
Jack did the same, coolly observing,--
"I thought we were only to show silver, Ned!"
"It needed not that," replied the gentleman; "your conduct in this
affair, your manners and address, fully convince me that you are what
you represent; but were you common peasants, I am equally indebted to
you for my life, and you may command me. Tell me in what way I can be
of service."
"In giving us something to eat, for we have had nothing for many, many
hours. After that we may, perhaps, trespass a little more upon your
kind offices."
"You must, of course, be surprised at what has passed, and curious to
know the occasion," said the gentleman; "you have a right to be
informed of it, and shall be, as soon as you are more comfortable; in
the meantime, allow me to introduce myself as Don Rebiera de Silva."
"I wish," said Jack, who, from his knowledge of Spanish, could
understand the whole of the last part of the Don's speech, "that he
would introduce us to his breakfast."
"So do I," said Gascoigne; "but we must wait a little--he ordered the
ladies to prepare something instantly."
"Your friend does not speak Italian," said Don Rebiera. "No, Don
Rebiera, he speaks French and Spanish." "If he speaks Spanish, my
daughter can converse with him; she has but shortly arrived from
Spain. We are closely united with a noble house in that country."
Don Rebiera then led the way to another room, and in a short time
there was a repast brought in, to which our midshipmen did great
justice.
"I will now," said the Don, "relate to you, sir, for the information
of yourself and friend, the causes which produced this scene of
violence, which you so opportunely defeated. But first, as it must be
very tedious to your friend, I will send for Donna Clara and my
daughter Agnes to talk to him; my wife understands a little Spanish,
and my daughter, as I said before, has but just left the country,
where, from circumstances, she remained some years."
As soon as Donna Clara and Donna Agnes made their appearance and were
introduced, Jack, who had not before paid attention to them, said to
himself, "I have seen a face like that girl's before." If so, he had
never seen many like it, for it was the quintessence of brunette
beauty, and her figure was equally perfect; although, not having yet
completed her fifteenth year, it required still a little more
development.
Donna Clara was extremely gracious, and as, perhaps, she was aware
that her voice would drown that of her husband, she proposed to our
hero to walk in the garden, and in a few minutes they took their seats
in a pavilion at the end of it. The old lady did not talk much
Spanish, but when at a loss for a word, she put in an Italian one, and
Jack understood her perfectly well. She told him her sister had
married a Spanish nobleman many years since, and that before the war
broke out between the Spanish and the English they had gone over with
all their children to see her; that when they wished to return, her
daughter Agnes, then a child, was suffering under a lingering
complaint, and it was thought advisable, as she was very weak, to
leave her under the charge of her aunt, who had a little girl of
nearly the same age; that they were educated together at a convent,
near Tarragona, and that she had only returned two months ago; that
she had a very narrow escape, as the ship in which her uncle, and
aunt, and cousins, as well as herself, were on board, returning from
Genoa, where her brother-in-law had been obliged to go to secure a
succession to some property bequeathed to him, had been captured in
the night by the English; but the officer, who was very polite, had
allowed them to go away next day, and very handsomely permitted them
to take all their effects.
"Oh, oh," thought Jack; "I thought I had seen her face before; this
then was one of the girls in the corner of the cabin--now I'll have
some fun."
During the conversation with the mother, Donna Agnes had remained some
paces behind, picking now and then a flower, and not attending to what
passed.
When our hero and her mother sat down in the pavilion she joined then,
when Jack addressed her with his usual politeness.
"I am almost ashamed to be sitting by you, Donna Agnes, in this ragged
dress--but the rocks of your coast have no respect for persons."
"We are under great obligations, signor, and do not regard such
trifles."
"You are all kindness, signora," replied Jack; "I little thought this
morning of my good fortune,--I can tell the fortunes of others, but
not my own."
"You can tell fortunes!" replied the old lady.
"Yes, madame, I am famous for it--shall I tell your daughter hers?"
Donna Agnes looked at our hero, and smiled.
"I perceive that the young lady does not believe me; I must prove my
art, by telling her of what has already happened to her. The signora
will then give me credit."
"Certainly, if you do that," replied Agnes.
"Oblige me, by showing me the palm of your hand."
Agnes extended her little hand, and Jack felt so very polite, that he
was nearly kissing it. However, he restrained himself, and examining
the lines--
"That you were educated in Spain--that you arrived here but two months
ago--that you were captured and released by the English, your mother
has already told me; but to prove to you that I knew all that, I must
now be more particular. You were in a ship mounting fourteen guns--
was it not so?"
Donna Agnes nodded her head. "I never told the signor that," cried
Donna Clara.
"She was taken by surprise in the night, and there was no fighting.
The next morning the English burst open the cabin-door; your uncle and
your cousin fired their pistols."
"Holy Virgin!" cried Agnes, with surprise.
"The English officer was a young man, not very good-looking."
"There you are wrong, signor--he was very handsome."
"There is no accounting for taste, signora. You were frightened out of
your wits, and with your cousin you crouched down in the corner of the
cabin. Let me examine that little line closer. You had--yes, it's no
mistake--you had very little clothes on."
Agnes tore away her hand and covered her face. "E vero, e vero; Holy
Jesus! how could you know that?" Of a sudden Agnes looked at our hero,
and after a minute appeared to recognise him. "Oh, mother, 'tis he--I
recollect now, 'tis he!"
"Who, my child?" replied Donna Clara, who had been struck dumb with
Jack's astonishing power of fortune-telling.
"The officer who captured us and was so kind." Jack burst out into a
laughter not to be controlled for some minutes, and then acknowledged
that she had discovered him.
"At all events, Donna Agnes," said he at last, "acknowledge that,
ragged as I am, I have seen you in a much greater dishabille."
Agnes sprang up, and took to her heels, that she might hide her
confusion, and at the same time go to her father and tell him who he
had as his guest.
Although Don Rebiera had not yet finished his narrative, this
announcement of Agnes, who ran in breathless to communicate it,
immediately brought all the parties together, and Jack received their
thanks.
"I little thought," said the Don, "that I should have been so doubly
indebted to you, sir. Command my services as you please, both of you.
My sons are at Palermo, and I trust you will allow them the pleasure
of your friendship when you are tired of remaining with us."
Jack made his politest bow, and then with a shrug of his shoulders
looked down upon his habiliments, which, to please Gascoigne, he had
torn into ribands, as much as to say, "We are not provided for a
lengthened stay."
"My brothers' clothes will fit them, I think," said Agnes to her
father; "they have left plenty in their wardrobes."
"If the signors will condescend to wear them till they can replace
their own." Midshipmen are very condescending. They followed Don
Rebiera, and condescended to put on clean shirts belonging to Don
Philip and Don Martin. Also to put on their trousers, to select their
best waistcoats and coats; in short, they condescended to have a
regular fit-out--and it so happened that the fit-out was not far from
a regular fit.
Having condescended, they then descended, and the intimacy between all
parties became so great that it appeared as if they not only wore the
young men's clothes but also stood in their shoes. Having thus made
themselves presentable, Jack presented his hand to both ladies and led
them into the garden, that Don Rebiera might finish his long story to
Gascoigne without further interruption, and resuming their seats in
the pavilion, he entertained the ladies with a history of his cruise
in the ship after her capture. Agnes soon recovered from her reserve,
and Jack had the forbearance not to allude again to the scene in the
cabin, which was the only thing she dreaded. After dinner, when the
family, according to custom, had retired for the siesta, Gascoigne and
Jack, who had slept enough in the cart to last for a week, went out
together in the garden.
"Well, Ned," said Jack, "do you wish yourself on board the Harpy
again?"
"No," replied Gascoigne, "we have fallen on our feet at last, but
still not without first being knocked about like peas in a rattle.
What a lovely little creature that Agnes is! How strange that you
should fall in with her again! How odd that we should come here!"
"My good fellow, we did not come here. Destiny brought us in a cart.
She may take us to Tyburn in the same way."
"Yes, if you sport your philosophy as you did when we awoke this
morning."
"Nevertheless, I'll be hanged if I'm not right. Suppose we argue the
point?"
"Right or wrong, you will be hanged, Jack; so instead of arguing the
point, suppose I tell you what the Don made such a long story about."
"With all my heart--let us go to the pavilion." Our hero and his
friend took their seats, and Gascoigne then communicated the history
of Don Rebiera, to which we shall dedicate the ensuing chapter.